When Happiness Goes Away
by Phantom-Of-The-Keurig
Summary: Based on a tumblr prompt of "Stop telling me you're okay." Christine struggles to reach her husband with his mind and heart filled with gray and sadness. One shot that may turn into a multi chapter short series.


Chapter 1.

Moving her small family out from under the dark, cold depths of the Opera House had proven a much harder task than Christine had originally thought.

She knew of course from the start it would not be easy to relocate herself, her husband, his cat, her dog, and their then two-month-old son. She accepted that task and continued to push forward, for her son's sake as well as her husbands. However, nothing prepared her for her life now.

Christine quietly hummed as she thought and continued to absentmindedly stroke her son's hair as he slept beside her. Charles, now eight months old and a recent discoverer of crawling, slept peacefully on his back with one chubby fist by his face. It was midmorning and her energetic son had already succumbed to the temptation of a nap.

Christine watched his small chest rise and fall with each little breath. His soft, feathery hair caught the sunlight from the window by her bed. His normally dark colored hair had a hint of an amber colored gloss in the light.

Careful not to wake him, Christine slowly traced her finger from the top of his head to his chin. Charles looked very much like Erik, and even he could not deny that. Their son did inherit her unruly curls, sharp eyebrow shape, and small nose. The rest of him, from his high cheek bones to his golden eye color, came from Erik.

 _Erik_.

With gentle movements to avoid waking her son, Christine pushed herself up onto her elbows.

 _Erik_.

She made her way silently out of the master bedroom and gave her sleeping son one last glance, smiling at her faithful beagle Teddy now in her vacant spot beside her son, before ever so carefully shutting the door. She spotted Ayesha, her husband's old wretched cat, waiting just up the hall.

The cat peered at her and then quickly turned to return to the room at the end of the hall. "Were you waiting for me, Miss. Sass?" She whispered to the cat. Ayesha glanced back at Christine, blinked, and then slipped into the silent room.

 _Erik_.

Christine paused at the door of Erik's study, where Ayesha had just creeped into moments ago. She braced herself mentally and sucked in a deep breath. The wood door creaked sharply when she pushed it open. Bright sunlight from the largest window in the house engulfed the room and highlighted the thick coat of dust on every surface.

In fact, the only thing not covered in dust was the area around the door, a small path leading to an armchair at the window, and the man sitting in said chair. Everything else, including once loved instruments and books from every corner of the world, sat abandoned.

Erik turned his head at the sound of her entrance. His yellow eyes focused on her face for a bit before trailing back to stare out the window. "Hello, love." He stated plainly.

Her husband's voice hurt her heart in a twisting, piercing way. His once rich, and warm voice that could sing like an angel and yell like a crackling storm was no more. The voice that had taught, amazed, scared, and loved her had been reduced to a mere shadow of what it had once been.

She placed herself beside Erik and followed where his eyes went. He was staring, as he had been for months, at the small town down the hill from them. Christine reached her hand out for him, and he mechanically took it. She knew not to offer a trip to town, or anywhere, as she had many times before. Erik would shut down for days after, even more so than he was now.

Christine slowly lowered herself to her knees, not caring how much the dust would ruin her pretty dress. "Erik," he peered down at her, his white half mask looking worn and chipped in many places.

"Are you very unhappy?"

"Of course not." He lied dryly, his face empty of any emotion. His eyes returned to their designated post, always staring at the town below.

Her heart gave another sharp twist and she didn't know what happened next. One moment she was placed on the floor holding back hot, angry tears. And then she found herself on her feet with her fist balled, and the tears flowing like rain in the summer.

"Oh, why do you lie to me! You..! You shouldn't _lie_ to me!"

For the first time in many months, she saw actual emotion cross his face. Erik was shocked, but he remained silent and stone like.

"Erik, please just talk to me. Please, I beg you. All I want is for you to tell me what's wrong."

His bony shoulders, now thinner from his increased lack of eating, shrugged. "My dear, nothing is wrong." Erik quirked his left eyebrow and shook his head. "I am okay, Christine."

She saw red. She saw more than red, she saw every loving memory of her dear husband flash by like a speeding train. Her hands flew to his mask, quicker than either could react, and she had it off his damaged face and soaring across the room in one quick motion. It hit the door she had come through with a sharp smack and landed beside Ayesha with a dull thud.

" _Stop telling me you're okay."_

Her voice broke with sobs and she waited for Erik to scream, yell, or explode as he always did when she forced his mask off. Instead he looked from the mask's place on the floor to her. "I'm afraid your favorite little trick doesn't work anymore, Christine."

Charles' wailing cries echoed from her room. Christine huffed out of the room and ran as fast as her dress would allow her back to Charles. She gathered her sobbing baby from his nest of blanket on the bed and held him close.

His mother's touch instantly calmed him and he began to softly whine instead. Christine sat on the bed with him tucked close and gently rocked him with tears blurring her vision. Teddy offered the only comfort a dog could, which was to nuzzle her harm and cuddle close.

"Oh, oh Charles I'm so sorry. Please forgive your awful mother. I'm sorry I woke you."

She shushed her child until they were both fast asleep, embraced tightly and with matching watery eyes. Christine didn't hear it of course, since she was unaware and asleep, but Teddy only stirred once from his protective position with his owner and her child. The bedroom door slowly swung open. Teddy growled, deep and warningly, at the figure with yellow eyes standing in the door frame.

The figure, lost and heartbroken, bowed his head and shut the door.


End file.
